"And you talked enough too, you dumb fatass bitch," Jolthar said calmly, walking towards Baron.
Eran's expression changed when he watched Jolthar. Maena's lips curled into a smile.
"You wouldn't dare," Baron said, his voice faltering.
The whisper of steel filled the air as Jolthar's blade cleared its scabbard. "I wouldn't? I think you'll find I can. And I will." His voice dropped to a dangerous whisper. "For the children in your mines."
The sword moved like lightning, its arc perfect and precise. Baron's eyes widened in shock as the blade opened a shallow cut across his chest – deep enough to kill.
For a moment, he stood frozen, mouth agape in a silent scream, before crumpling to the ground like a puppet whose strings had been cut. The smell of blood filled the air.
Then, stillness. The mighty Baron, who had terrorised so many, lay dead at their feet.
